


vowed to be his husband at the altar

by dogf1ght



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4046773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogf1ght/pseuds/dogf1ght
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey is the new kid and Pete kinda likes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	vowed to be his husband at the altar

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is so short! I just wanted to fit something in while before school ended. Our final day is the 12th (so like two weeks from now) and I'll try to write a lot after that! my tumblr (andimsatan)'s ask box is always open for requests. If you send one in, it'll probably motivate me to write more :P
> 
> title from New Americana by Halsey

There's something about Mikey Way, the new kid a grade below him, that Pete can't ignore. Maybe it's his glasses, or the way he tucks his hair into his glasses. It could be the way he blushes all the god damn time, or maybe the way he folds into himself during any social situation.

Or maybe it's the way Mikey's really fucking good at writing poetry comparing sadness to sunshine. All Pete can write is screaming songs during sessions where his anger bubbles over into a water fall of what would be blood if he hadn't promised Patrick he'd quit pinching the razors his mom thought he only used for his face between his fingers every night.

 

Therefore, Pete corners him in the boy's bathroom during their shared lunch period the Friday before Spring Break starts, trying to get the skinnier boy to talk to him. It's warm enough for Pete to be called down to the office several times for the holes cut into his shirt, but cold enough for Patrick to still be wearing argyle sweaters. 

 

"Listen," Pete says, trying to make eye contact with Mikey. He's acting like a cornered cat, looking every which way for an escape route. The good news for Pete is that he's backed too many people up against a wall (for various reasons) for Mikey to be able to escape without a fight. Pete continues. "You seem cool, but you don't seem to have a lot of friends...correct?" Mikey stares down at the floor, frozen at the notion of someone calling him "cool," or someone even talking to him at all. He nods slowly, as if sudden movement will cause Pete to lash out.

 

Mikey likes Pete, neither him nor Gerard can deny that. He's got half his honors biology notebook full of "Pete + Mikey"s with cliche hearts and arrows and it's only his third week at this fucking hell hole. 

He's got a crush on the loudest, most annoying, punkest kid in school with a reputation to match. He's heard rumors of Pete kissing and punching and playing in bands with everyone he's come in contact with. He's heard girls' giggles and boys' whispers about the short teenage boy's habits. He's read notes left unfolded on desks in his classes and passive rants on social media.

Yet, the only thing warning him to stay away was his social anxiety and his hunger for the food sitting on lawn outside where Frank holds guard.

 

Pete continues, unfazed by Mikey's shyness."So, I was wondering if you would like to go to this house party type things with me and my friends. A few bands are playing, and I'm in two of them along with Andy. Joe plays guitar some of them too. It'll be fine, mostly straight edge kids who like to party. Wanna come?" 

Mikey's eyes blow up more and more with every word. 

Crush? Party? Bands? Invitation? Cute boy? Be with him? Close social setting??

Mikey doesn't know what to do. His brain is too short circuited and his anxiety is too high for him to answer correctly. He just wants to go eat his lunch and stick to his own little space while reading bad poetry written by bad people and good poetry written by sad ones.

Therefore, he nods, half-shrieks half-whispers a "yes," and ducks out while he can.

Pete, standing there with his pink hair and torn short and shredded jeans, couldn't be happier.


End file.
